Chapter 17: Sheep and Dogs

“Sheep and dogs…” Qi Xia narrowed his eyes, carefully pondering everything.

At first, the person who called himself “Human Sheep” wanted them to kill each other, but now this “Human Sheep” claimed to be deeply concerned about them and said he couldn’t just watch them die.

“Isn’t this a lie…?”

Suddenly, a flash of insight struck Qi Xia.

That’s it!

This was it!

Lies!

Everything aligned with what Qi Xia had anticipated. “Sheep” and “dogs” weren’t names at all—they were game types!

Could “sheep” represent the story of “The Boy Who Cried Wolf”? The shepherd boy lied so often that no one came to his rescue. So, in a “sheep” game, there would be “lies”—a game of deception.

And “dogs” might symbolize loyalty. In the earlier harpoon game, if they hadn’t cooperated, none of them would have survived. So, could “dogs” represent “cooperation”?

Qi Xia picked up the harpoon again, realizing that “Human Sheep” might have lied while explaining the rules.

But in those few short sentences, which one was the lie?

“If I can’t just watch you die”—if that statement was the lie…

“Wait…” Qi Xia’s eyes widened slowly. “This isn’t the ‘answer’—it’s a trap meant to kill us all.”

“What are you talking about?” Qiao Jiajin asked, confused.

“Every word of that was a lie!” Qi Xia declared firmly. “Standing by the wall means ‘death.’ The spot beneath the hole is ‘life’!”

Dr. Zhao and Officer Li exchanged glances, unsure of what Qi Xia was trying to say.

“Everyone, remember? ‘Sheep’ can lie!” Qi Xia stood in the center of the room, urging the others to move closer. “If we follow his rules, we’ll end up killing ourselves. That’s the difference between ‘sheep’ and ‘dogs’!”

“But does that really make sense?” Xiao Ran asked timidly. “The hole is right above your head—that seems like the most dangerous spot…”

Qi Xia hadn’t quite figured that part out yet.

What could possibly fall from that hole that would kill those standing by the wall?

“Hmm…” After a moment of thought, Qi Xia changed his approach. “Never mind. Once this round is over, there’s a high chance we’ll escape. So, choose for yourselves.”

“How do you know we’ll get out?” Officer Li asked warily.

“Because the instructions didn’t mention the next game,” Qi Xia replied. “That means two things: either this is the final game, or the organizers are confident they can kill us all here.”

The group fell silent, unable to refute his logic.

“Anyway, I’ll be standing here,” Qi Xia pointed at his feet. “The rest is up to you.”

Knowing his reasoning was speculative, Qi Xia prudently picked up a square tabletop to use as a shield.

After hearing him out, Qiao Jiajin slowly moved to his side. “I told you—I trust you.”

“But I’m a liar,” Qi Xia said coldly.

“Doesn’t matter.”

Lin Qin deliberated for a moment, then covered her mouth and nose as she walked toward the center.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Xiao Ran, still pressed against the wall, shouted. “You actually believe him?”

Lin Qin nodded slightly. “Yes. Think about it—who’s the reason we’ve survived this long?”

Xiao Ran froze, realizing Lin Qin had a point. After wrestling with the decision, she reluctantly followed.

Han Yimo, clutching his wounded shoulder, also approached.

“You’re… Qi Xia, right? I trust you too.”

Tian Tian and Zhang Chenze followed suit.

Only Dr. Zhao and Officer Li remained firmly against the wall.

“Hey, aren’t you coming?” Tian Tian called out.

“I…” Dr. Zhao hesitated, torn between choices.

“No need to force anyone,” Qi Xia waved dismissively. “This round isn’t about teamwork—just surviving.”

The clock on the floor inched toward 1:28.

Officer Li narrowed his eyes at Qi Xia.

He didn’t believe this liar would willingly seek death—so why was he leading everyone beneath the hole?

Lin Qin, sensing their hesitation, spoke up. “Qi Xia doesn’t seem to be lying. Are you coming?”

“You can tell?” Officer Li asked quietly.

“Yes,” Lin Qin nodded. “Because of my work, I can usually tell when someone’s lying.”

“In that case…” Officer Li and Dr. Zhao exchanged a glance before stepping forward. “If a professional says so, we’ll trust you.”

Everyone grabbed the nearest tabletop and held it overhead as a shield—whatever fell from above, they’d be ready.

“You’re all quite crafty,” Qiao Jiajin chuckled, picking up his own tabletop. It was sturdier now, a perfect square with a solid handle.

Qi Xia glanced at the clock and grabbed Qiao Jiajin. “Get ready—it’s coming.”

The moment the clock struck 1:30, a deafening chain rattled from above, as if something unseen was winding up.

But nothing emerged from the hole. No “death,” no “life”—just silence.

Then, after a few seconds, the floor beneath them abruptly lurched upward.

“Damn…” Qi Xia’s expression darkened. “Worse than I thought.”

Panicked shouts erupted as the ceiling began descending, threatening to crush them.

“What’s happening?!”

Before anyone could process the situation, Qi Xia shouted, “Get down!”

A few reacted quickly, crouching low, but despair was already setting in. The ceiling and floor would soon meet, leaving no escape.

Qi Xia crouched, mind racing. His theory had to be right—the hole was the way out. But how?

As the floor rose, the room’s height halved. The rectangular hole was now within reach.

Seizing the moment, Qi Xia reached into the hole. It was just an ordinary opening, but the ceiling’s structure was unusual—hard metal.

“Could it be…?”

He grabbed his square tabletop. If the hole was the exit, and the board was his only tool…

Qi Xia shoved the board vertically into the hole, then twisted it horizontally. A firm tug confirmed it was locked in place, leaving only the handle exposed.

“This is… the way out?” His eyes widened as realization struck.

The others mimicked his actions, securing their boards overhead.

“Be careful—”

Before Qi Xia could finish, the floor beneath them shattered.

“Ah—!”

“Bloody hell—!”

Screams erupted as they plummeted, instinctively grabbing the handles above.

Han Yimo, weakened from blood loss, struggled to hold on. Qi Xia watched helplessly as his grip loosened.